Bug Hunt

1430 hours. It's a dreary outpost on the planet Sixtopolis. We're at the verge of human controlled space and charged with keeping an eye out for humanities enemies. Unfortunately we've hit the mother lode if you will.

We've been invaded by an enemy force. Exoskeletal, large legged, possessed of a huge head and bulbous eyes. They are a vicious and ravenous species who know neither civility nor mercy.

It's no good waiting. Waiting is good for them, bad for us. We needed to take the fight to those damn murderous Orthopteras. I put my best man on it. "Just another Bug Hunt huh boss? I'm on it."

He's young and raw. Just out of the Academy but he's a hardcore killer. If Private Angus couldn't get it done then we were all in deep kimshi. As good as dead. Up the river without a paddle. In serious trouble is the idea I'm trying to get across here."Go get 'em Private." Morale is my job.

He picked up the scent almost immediately. He has a nose for trouble. Sometimes it even finds someone other than himself but that's another tale for another day. Today we're hunting bugs.

And the hunt was on.

The bugs are wily and secretive. They tend to attack in packs, ambushing unwary patrols and slaughtering it down to the last man. Pvt. Angus was on his toes, head on a swivel and ready to rock and roll at all times.

"Aaiiee!! I saw one over there! I think it touched me!"

Suddenly he was off like a shot, taking the fight to the enemy. It was an epic charge worthy of the Light Brigade. Or at least the Chihuahua Brigade. "Come back you fool!" I yelled but to no avail. Poor, brave bastard. Luckily the forces of evil scattered at the approach of his Chattering Teeth of Deadly Death and he was saved from being consumed in a horde of chitinous nibbling.

But we lost them in the dark and heavy fog. I had to settle the big fella down and get him back on track. He's a loose cannon but he's our loose cannon and when you're facing down the Hordes of Hell there's no better man...er, dog to have at your side.

Of course even the hardest charging soldier occasionally needs a break to take care of some urgent business.

In no time at all he was back in business (No pun intended), drawing ever nearer to enemies lines. We all knew that when contact was initiated all hell was going to break loose. Hey, that's just what we do. We're soldiers and Earth's last line of defense. Or maybe first. I sometimes get confused when I've missed my nap. Totally awesome, killer, high speed low drag naps of course. We were ready.

CONTACT!!! The enemy was found and pinned down. Intense, no mercy, all or nothing, Lord of the Rings style Battle was joined.

Combat was fierce but fortunately brief.  The enemy was routed and killed in vast numbers. The field was littered with their hideous corpses, their brown fluids staining the grass. The stink was great. And by great I of course mean pretty darn stinky.

Private Angus was magnificent. He waded into the battle with virtually no thought for his own safety. Probably with no thoughts at all but hey, that's what cannon fodder means. At the end he even managed to capture one of them. I'm pretty sure it was at least a General. Maybe even a Field Marshall. Private Angus handled the interrogation himself.

"Speak you vile, twisted crustacean from another world! Where is your headquarters? Take me to your leader!"

"Won't speak eh? Maybe a little slobber therapy is in order here. If this won't loosen your tongue I have other ways to make you talk! Hehhehheh!"

I went to check on his progress. "Private Angus Report! How goes the interrogation? Getting any good information from our little green friend?"

"He refused to divulge any information Sir. So I had to eat him"

"You ate him?!? Bad Private, no biscuit!"

"Right Boss. I'll be over here having a nap. If you need me just whistle. You do know how to whistle don't you Boss?"

I should have promoted Private Angus to at least Corporal for his bravery in battle but eating the prisoner demanded a demotion to stockboy. I called it a wash and we went inside for dinner.

So the fight is over and an uneasy peace reigns o'er the land. For now. We know they'll be back but we're ready. This battle has been won but the enemy is devious and has the advantage of numbers.

But no worries, Private Angus is on the job.

It's quiet out there. maybe too quiet....

Six

Fearless Freep And Yosemite Sam Walk Into A Bar....

And the bartender says "You shot my Paw!" Hahahahaha!!

Ok, so I suck at jokes but I am in fact an actor of, dare I say it, genius level abilities. I had a role in a movie where my character was supposed to fake an Achilles injury. I went that extra step and actually ruptured my Achilles Tendon, all in the name of gritty realism of course. Hey, That's just the way I roll. Nick Searcy Style baby. My rendition of 'Police Officer Giving Talk On Dog Park Etiquette' brought tears to many eyes. It may have been the pepper spray but I assure you, tears were shed in abundance. Which brings me to the topic of this post which is:

There's No Such Thing As Ghosts. Seriously You Guys. Stop Being Such A Pack Of Wusses.

Have you watched those ghost hunter shows on TV? You know the ones, where the hosts explore supposedly haunted places with lots of dramatic camera work and much screaming, hand flapping and general pants wetting.

They drive me up a wall.

They remind me of a bunch of 8 year old boys daring each other to go into Old Lady Maginty's house that's been abandoned for 40 years and is supposedly haunted by a ghost who specializes in sucking the blood from children who are foolish enough enter the premises without the proper specter proof blanket over their heads. Look into the mirror and say "Scary Ted Kennedy" three times and he will suddenly appear. We swear. Seriously you guys. It happened to my friends cousin's brother's Kindergarten teacher's fourth pupils younger sister. And she totally died!

They employ all manner of Ghost Buster technology like 'Ghost' cameras, 'Ghost' thermal imagers and super sensitive 'Ghost' detectors that shows cold spots, hot spots, room temperature spots, background noise, spooky spectral glows, theremin music and much other eerie 'evidence' of the presence of the Ghost of  TV Ratings Past and Present. The shows emphasize the Ghost Hunter's fearlessly going to places no one else but a double dared preteen boy would go.

I want to create and star in a different paranormal show.  In it I will fearlessly go into places such as abandoned IRS offices, eerily empty Congressional Halls and even the Oval Office that is reportedly inhabited by the Screaming Banshee of Scandal and just kind of wander around, all without saying things like "Did you hear that?" Or "What was that!?" And "Aaiiee, something's got me! Save me spirit of Calvin Coolidge!!"

I will pick my nose and flick the resulting booger directly on the Sacred Duvet Cover thereby insulting the Dead Scientists Brain In A Pickle Jar. From Hell. I will walk around and purposely enter a room while looking over my shoulder at nothing at all behind me. I will investigate spooky noises in the basement alone while wearing nothing more than a thin, see through nightie (Viewer discretion advised. Don't blame me you were warned). I will take a whiz in the Garden Of Evil Undead Buried Stuff. I will even pet the Fluffy Cat Of Disdainful Horror and The Black Lab Of Face Licking Death.

You'd watch that, right? I mean, it's gotta be better than watching a bunch of Don Knotts impersonators in a remake of The Ghost And Mister Chicken, plotzing themselves and running around willy nilly in the darkness embarrassing their friends and family and especially their kids who can no longer show their faces in school lest they be teased unmercifully. Won't someone think of the CHILDREN!?

Now all I need is a basic cable channel willing to pay millions thousands hundreds of dollars to a bald, fat ex-cop willing to go on TV and poke Poltergeists in the eye.

Wait. Did you hear something? What was that? Something's got me! Aaiiee!!!

Six

My Life Probably Won't Be Saved By My Dog

I love Angus a lot, I really do. He's a happy dog. It doesn't matter what we're doing he's completely ecstatic to somehow be included. I'd say he loves one activity more than others but I'd be lying, or running for office as it's colloquially known. Walkies, runnies, swimmies, poopies. He loves them all. Of course sometimes runnies and poopies meet and the result is somewhat less than ideal but that's probably best left for another post. Still, nothing ever seems to get him down. If I could harness his tail wag we could power greater Las Vegas for a decade.

But a guard dog he most assuredly isn't. Oh he barks. There's nothing he likes more than a good session of "Hey! Who's that!? What's that? Did I hear something? Will you throw that ball? You will? Oh Joy!?" barking and general mayhem where he throws himself around the room convinced that the Boogerman is right outside the door and if I don't open it so he can run around the yard in a butt tucked frenzy we'll all die in a mucous catastrophe the likes of which the world has never known. The surprised look on his face when he finds the yard empty of any traces of Minions Of Evil always makes me chuckle in a slightly Mad Scientist who has just watched his Hero Nemesis step into his implausible and highly complicated trap kinda way.

But Angus never gets embarrassed or disappointed. He's always absolutely certain that this time the Sultan of Snot will actually be there and then he can save everyone by barking madly and dancing around with a toy in his mouth and trying to get someone to throw it for him. I've always been a little dubious about the efficacy of this plan but then I'm not a Labrador Retriever so what do I know? Angus assures me it will work perfectly so I'm inclined to give him the benefit of the doubt. For now anyway. He's a bit more sanguine on walks though. I've seen him scared senseless by a stationary garbage bag of leaves on the curb that had in no way made any threatening moves against him despite what he claims.

So the other night we were walking our normal route around the block. A walk we've done more than once if you know what I mean and I think you do. Now, Angus tends to get fixated on one thing to the exclusion of everything else. He's a little like a guy at a strip club that way. Not that I'd know anything about that. I just heard is all. Anyway. As we got to this one house there was a small male child playing in the driveway. He had clearly been riding on his toy scooter as it was lying on the sidewalk, kinda sorta in our path. Angus was zoned in on the boy as he generally really likes kids. I think it's because their hands are at his level and they often carry scrumptious snacks that are clearly meant just for him. Hey, a free meal is a free meal and a little kid with an ice cream cone is a gift from The Great Provider. So Angus is watching the boy, almost certainly hoping for a game of 'Feed the cute puppy' to suddenly break out, and he has completely lost sight of the toy scooter on the sidewalk.

Now I must admit here that I saw it and kinda, sorta had a hunch what might happen and probably could have steered Angus around it but where's the fun in that? The comedy potential was clearly very high and I do need blog fodder after all. Don't judge me, Lu saw it too and she was totally silent as well so I'm just going to go ahead and blame everything on her. The scooter was shaped like that gorked tow truck from that cartoon movie, Lethal Weapon, so there's that. Moving along.

 Just as Angus got to the scooter he must have decided that the boy wasn't in fact a Magical Food Faerie after all so he began to turn his head back in the general direction of our walk. Now at this point we were still walking down the sidewalk so Angus had some forward momentum built up. He was moving in that kind of sidling, hopping, crabbing, 'is that candy in his hand?' way known all too well to any Lab owners out there. It's the "you can't get mad at me 'cause I'm still moving forward even though I think that's food/a squirrel/something shiny and I'm pretty sure I need it" walk that ensures your forward progress is as miniscule as your chances of tripping over a furry body is great. Angus was turning his head and must have just caught sight of the scooter out of the corner of his eye. He was suddenly confronted by what was clearly a device and/or minion of Immediate Impending Doom.

Angus jumped approximately nine feet into the air all the while emitting 'barks of agitated surprise' and 'gyrations of great consternation'. He cleared my head by a good three feet on his way in the opposite direction while simultaneously leaving a steaming pile on the ground in the neighborhood of the offensive toy. Stitches 'Crash' Squidboy, the current X-Ray Games concussion champ (douchetastic division) would have been so proud. I know I was. Angus hit the end of the leash at a full gallop, heading back the way we'd come as this was obviously an area free of nefarious implements of canine maimery. I figure he was doing about Mach 3 when he hit the limits of my retractaleash. There then ensued a tug of war twixt man and dog that could best be described as desperate and by desperate I mean hilarious. Angus was pulling one way with all his strength while casting incredulous looks at me as if to say "Flee You Fool!" while I was pulling the other way just as hard while trying to contain a bad case of the hysterical giggles. I know, I am a bad man.

After a minute or two of this I was starting to really question my decision to let this comedy/drama play out to it's totally unforeseen by me I swear conclusion. I even remember thinking "Was this the right, the mature thing to do?" Of course the answer is "I'll take Vexatious Consequences for $100 Alex."

At last we managed to convince Angus that it was indeed nothing more dangerous that a child's riding toy and with much snuffling and not a few accusatory looks we managed to circumnavigate the offending object and continue on our way. But 'The Incident', as it has come to be known here at Casa Six, was far from over. Have you ever seen a dog sulk? I swear, the term Hangdog was invented by Angus and if not he has certainly perfected the craft. He punished me for a good hour. He sat by the couch, close enough that he knew I could see him but far enough away that I couldn't actually reach him, and hung his head. Whenever he thought I wasn't paying enough attention to him he'd let out a small whine followed by a huge sigh. He even turned his head away in a clear snub when I tried to give him a chewy treat by way of assuaging my by now mounting guilt. Snubbed by my dog. I have now clearly plumbed the very depths of social ostracism.

But it all turned out Ok in the end. If there's one thing a Lab can be counted on it's forgiveness. Probably because they have the attention span of an elderly May Fly but I think that's profiling and I'm told that's bad so forget I ever said anything of the sort. Eventually he came over for pets and I even convinced him into a game of Tug O War. By simply picking up his favorite rope because, as I may have mentioned once or twice, Angus is a Lab.

And I have learned a great lesson form all of this. That lesson is...Wait, I had it a second a go. It's...No, that wasn't it. I think it was something about never playing with a sleeping dogs drool or the bark is funnier than the leap or some such. I never was any good at epiphanies. Oh wait, I remember now.

Underdog Angus ain't
and
It's a dang good thing I decided against arming him 'cause if he'd had a gun....

Six

Redneck Engineering

With apologies to my buddy TheRedneckEngineer.

While driving out for our first MTB ride of the year (more on that later) Lu and I saw this and we just had to get a picture. It was mounted firmly so definitely not something he was 'just transporting for a friend'.

I know this area is called Utah's Dixie but come on. Though it does look like something I'd do. Car Guy would kill me of course.

Six

What I Really Did

Offered for my old comrades and everyone who has worn the suit.

If I had a nickel for every naked dude call I ever responded to.....

Six

Tales Of The Weird

You know how sometimes you see something that just makes you scratch your head?

Lu and I were walking Angus the other night. Just a nice little walkie around the block. I'm paying attention to him because he's still in puppy mode and requires frequent input. Lu and I are just chatting and enjoying the evening. Suddenly Angus goes on alert and growls. You dog people know what I'm talking about here. You know the difference between a "What's that?" growl and a fight or flight posture and that deep in his chest "There may be something there that needs killin" growl. Yeah, it was the second. I looked up and saw, jogging right down the middle of the street.....

A 6 foot chicken. Seriously.

Angus freaked. I mean, that's just a bit outside his experience. Heck, it's kinda outside my experience and after 24 years as a cop I've seen pretty much everything. Except a 6 foot jogging chicken apparently.

With a jaunty little wave he passed us and went on trotting up the road. Probably to do battle with the forces of evil. I kept looking around for a 6 foot lion with a giant F on his red sweater.

Super Chicken in my little town. I never knew our evil genius/mad scientist population was that high. Maybe this means that Angus is really Underdog and was just pissed at this clear violation of his crime fighting territory.

Who knew? Next time I'll get his autograph.

Six

Assault With A Deadly Weapon?

During my career I've been kicked, punched and hit with a wide and varied selection of objects but this is just too much.

Woman hits cop in the head with a pink dildo.

Now that's a Penal Code violation

Along the same lines we've all heard about the Secret Service guys who got caught with their pants down. Here's a tip for our boys in dark suits from a former street cop. Pay the hooker. You know it's wrong, I know it's wrong and damn sure she knows it's wrong. If you piss her off she has exactly nothing to lose. She'll scream and rant and raise a ruckus leaving you with your dick in your hand and a stupid look on your face in front of a bunch of people you'd just as soon not be aware of your proclivities. If you're so morally bankrupt and equipmentally deficient that you have to pay for it make sure she at least leaves monetarily satisfied. And do try to remember the Secret part of Secret Service. Letting everyone you're carrying on with know what you do for a living and who you do it for is just asking for trouble.

If I had a nickel for every stupid John I ever had dealings with.....

Six

What Makes Lu Laugh?

This does. I'm pretty sure I've seen it before but it had Lu falling out of her chair last night. Pretty sure it was the nuts thing.
Six

Captain Morgan Christmas Cookies

1 cup of water
1 tsp baking soda
1 cup of sugar
1 tsp salt
1 cup of brown sugar
4 large eggs
1 cup nuts (optional)
2 cups of dried fruit
1 bottle Captain Morgan Spiced Rum
Sample the rum to check quality. Take a large bowl, check the rum again, to
be sure it is of the highest quality, pour one level cup and drink.

Turn on the electric mixer. Beat one cup of butter
in a large fluffy bowl.

Add one peastoon of sugar. Beat again. At this point it's best to make
sure the rum is still ok, try another cup just in case.

Turn off the mixerer thingy.

Break 2 leggs and add to the bowl and chuck in the cup of dried fruit.

Pick the frigging fruit off the floor, and check the rum.

Mix on the turner.

If the fried druit gets stuck in the beaters just pry
it loose with a drewscriver.

Sample the Captain Morgan to check for tonsisticity.

Next, sift two cups of salt, or something. Who geeves a sheet. Check the
rum. Now shift the lemon juice and strain your nuts.

Add one table.

Add a psoon of sugar, or somefink. Whatever you can find.

Greash the oven.

Turn the cake tin 360 degrees and try not to fall
over.

Don't forget to beat off the turner.
Finally, bow the throwl through the window, finish the Maptain Corgan and
make sure to put the stove in the wishdasher.
Cherry Mistmas !

Yeah, He Might Be Better Than Me. Just A Little.

I've been riding powered two wheelers for about 45 years now. I've been to police motorcycle school, spent better than 10 years enforcement riding, even have 22 laps at Laguna Seca at speed on a ZX6. I have skills.

This guy? He makes me feel bad about myself. As though I've suddenly discovered that those streamers coming from the handlebar grips of my Barbie Princess bicycle don't actually make me cool.



Yeah, I can't do that. Don't ask.

Six